


Contrasts

by Hippediva



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-07-28
Updated: 2001-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hippediva/pseuds/Hippediva





	Contrasts

"My Padawan is not a whore." Qui-Gon snapped, his eyes set in glacial regard of the leering dignitary across the table.

The B'ror shrugged with another unpleasant smile and Qui-Gon swallowed the urge to Force-choke that smile off his pudding-coloured face. Fortunately, the subject was abandoned in another round of chess-playing negotiations that, predictably, ended nowhere.

The Jedi Master was still seething when he returned to their quarters a few hours later. His Padawan was draped in a low couch, arms thrown over the stone rail of the balcony, gazing out at the twilight sky. He turned to Qui-Gon, his face breaking into one of its infectious grins. The sunset turned his hair to flame, touching his face with its warmth.

Force above, he's beautiful. Qui-Gon pushed the thought away and felt the anger rising in his throat like bile.

"Where were you all day?" his voice was sharp.

The smile faded from the boy's face, replaced with anxious concern. "I'm sorry, Master. You told me to explore the palace and grounds while you spoke to the B'ror. Did things not go well?"

"Well enough." Qui-Gon's lips were set in a tight line that threw all the planes of his face into harsh relief. Obi-Wan padded barefoot to him, stopping at the low table to pour a glass of wine for him. The boy's eyes were wide, that little frown-line between his elegant brows creased with worry.

Qui-Gon drank the wine down swiftly. "I'm tired. I'll retire now. I suggest you do the same. Tomorrow will be early." His voice was still harsh and he was unaccountably pleased to see the hurt in Obi-Wan's eyes. That wounded look haunted his dreams that night, until he woke in the darkness. Overcome with regret, he silently walked across the room to gaze down at his sleeping Padawan.

The boy's face was soft in slumber, and he'd kicked the coverlet away, one arm thrown over his head. Qui-Gon reached down to touch his cheek, a whisper of a caress.

Still so soft. So young. He didn't add the word his mind screamed.

Innocent.

FIN


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